


Big

by Crockzilla



Series: Domesti-Kink with Spideypool [12]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Fantastic Four, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Crush, Crying, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-01-16 12:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla
Summary: Peter can't stop looking at and thinking about Wade's great big arms and shoulders and hands and back. He's fine. (He's not fine.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persephoniac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephoniac/gifts).



> Blessings to Persephoniac for requesting this fic, which was SO much fun to write.
> 
> I cherry-pick from the Kelly/McGuinness Spider-man/Deadpool comics for this universe, and there are several references to events from that series here. Please forgive!

“Your rogue gallery is _ridi_ culous, Sweet Cheeks.”

Peter sighed. The stupid pet-names didn’t bother him anymore. Well – they didn’t piss him off anymore. Instead, they gave him this kind of shaky feeling in his middle and made him maybe blush for some reason, but that’s what masks were for.

“Technically Paste Pot Pete is part of the Fantastic Four’s rogue gallery. Sorry you got covered in – paste, by the way.”

“Aw, Spidey,” Wade cooed as he pulled off his mask and the top half of his costume, which were covered in paste, “you _do_ care.”

But he did wish Wade would quit saying shit like that because it made this whole _thing_ he was feeling even more difficult to deal with. And he wished he would put his top back on because – _guh._

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Wade’s bare arms and chest before. It was just that he for some reason couldn’t tear his eyes away from Wade’s giant, muscle-y, beautiful arms and chest.

 No. Not “for some reason.” He knew exactly the reason.

And then there were Wade’s gorgeous blue eyes that were on him now, and his super cute mouth that drew up in a smirk at him. Wade had caught him ogling his muscles. Shit.

“Never gets easier to look at, does it, Webs?”

Oh – _shit._

“What? No! I’m not – that’s not,” he trailed off eloquently. He wanted to say he wasn’t looking at Wade’s poor scarred and broken skin but at his erotically big and strong arms and shoulders and he really wanted to run his tongue all over them (gah, where had _that_ come from?) but that if he had been looking at Wade’s skin it would only have been because he knew it was uncomfortable and he wanted to do something to soothe it (like run his tongue all over it, maybe) and that he actually found it weirdly interesting and –

He didn’t say any of that as Wade considered him, head cocked to the side, a bemused, affectionate smile on his face. Peter felt his skin go hot again – yay, mask.

“Well,” Wade finally said, pulling his Hannah Montana hoodie out of his go-bag (Peter preferred his Invader Zim hoodie, but telling him that would mean sharing that Peter paid enough attention to Wade’s wardrobe to have preferences), “as the Prom Queen said, I gotta go home and scrub the spooge off my outfit. See you tomorrow, Spidey-pants?”

“Let’s meet a little earlier than usual,” Peter said as he followed him to the fire escape of the building they were perched on. “Paste Pot was doing something at that warehouse, and I let the F.F. know to watch it, but I’m afraid it’s gonna turn into a bigger deal.”

Wade turned around on the fire escape and made a show of sighing in a long-suffering way. “I sup _pose_ , but only because I love you.”

Peter _really_ wished he would stop saying that shit. It wasn’t fair.

“Ooh, look, we’re very Tony and Maria right now,” Wade observed their position on the fire escape, then took Peter’s hands. “All you need is a flowy nightie.”

Wade started singing a song at him quite loudly. Peter pulled his hands out of Wade’s strong, giant ones. “Good night, Wade.”

“Good night, Webs! See you tomorrow! Don’t forget your nightie this time!”

Peter watched Wade’s shadow dance on the sides of buildings as he bound away, his broad upper body looking even broader.

… _Ugh._

*~*~*

It was dark in his room, but not so dark that he couldn’t see Wade’s outline, which tapered up perfectly from slim hips to big shoulders. Peter’s breath hitched as he watched Wade approach his prone body on the bed, slowly and purposefully, smirking in that super cute way he did as he straddled Peter’s naked hips and pinned his wrists above his head.

Peter tried to squirm, not to get away (he did _not_ want to get away) but to feel that _delicious_ feeling of Wade’s weight holding him down and in place. He twisted his wrists to feel Wade’s hands wrapped around them, to feel how _easily_ Wade’s hands fit around his entire wrist, to feel the pressure of Wade’s beautiful arms bearing down on him, and instead of helpless he felt _safe_ , but he also wanted desperately to put his mouth on those muscles and whined plaintively when he tried to reach them and couldn’t.

Wade just smiled at him in that way that made Peter tremble all over and kneed Peter’s legs apart, taking his wrists in one hand so he could line himself up (because turned out he could hold _both_ of Peter’s wrists in _one_ hand). Peter heard himself moan as Wade carefully rocked against him, pushing into him, his cock (which Peter had seen enough of to know would be a _challenge_ ) stretching and filling him, and it was _too_ big, and it _burned_ and he was afraid and he tried to writhe but Wade held him fast as he mercilessly pounded into him, jolting Peter’s entire frame and he’d never felt so small as he did under Wade’s beautiful body …

And then Wade was underneath _him,_ giant, gorgeous arms stretched over his head, Peter straddling his naked hips, and he could feel the texture of Wade’s skin under his thighs and he ran his hands over the skin of his broad chest, feeling the intricate, rough pattern. And now it was Wade who whined pitifully.

“Don’t move, babe,” Peter heard himself say. He looked into Wade’s ridiculously pretty blue eyes to see his pupils blown wide with arousal and knew that he’d obey, that he wouldn’t move, and the thought was _intoxicating_ – all those gorgeous muscles, all that power held at bay, and he didn’t even have to use his own prodigious strength. Wade would hold still, would not _move_ , because Peter _told_ him not to…

Peter came before he could stop himself, curling over his own hand on his cock as he shook and convulsed, collapsing back onto his bed when he was spent.

He dragged himself to his bathroom and cleaned himself up and thought about – well, thought about what it might be like if there was someone to assist him, or someone lying prone and exhausted from super hot sex on his bed, waiting patiently for him to come clean them up.

He crawled under his covers and looked around his dark apartment. It wasn’t quite as lonely now that he’d moved into a smaller, cozier, older one-bedroom. He’d realized that just because he could _afford_ a big weird place with high ceilings didn’t mean he was obligated to live in such a place – it just wasn’t him. But _this_ apartment was – sweet. It would be the perfect place for two people who were newly in love to get to know each other in as a couple, for instance. He star-fished his arms and legs out in the big, comfy bed, which had more than enough room for him and could easily accommodate another person. A much taller, broader person, for example.

This had to stop, if for no other reason than he was pretty sure he’d called Wade “babe” in his masturbatory fantasy (did he even _call_ people babe? It sounded so -- grown up.) He was just gonna tell him. Yes, tomorrow night, he was going to just _tell_ Wade all this. It wasn’t like Wade made any secret of the fact that he had a crush on Spider-man, but – well that had been before, when they weren’t all Best Friend Crime-Fighting Team, and besides, Wade had a crush on _Spider-man._ He didn’t think much of Peter Parker.

Peter sighed and looked at the Deadpool stuffie Wade had left with the apology note after he’d shot him in the face twice. He kept the stuffie (and the note) on his nightstand because it was evidence of Wade being nice, or at least sort of nice, to _him_ , to Peter, but it didn’t do anything to deter his feeling that Wade would be disappointed if he took off his mask.

Peter drifted into a fitful sleep, imagining how it would feel to have his back pressed against a broad chest with great big arms wrapped around him.

*~*~*

Turned out over a decade of crime-fighting had taught him something after all – this _had_ turned into a bigger deal.

Peter tried to ignore the feeling of Wade’s big warm hands clinging to his shoulders as he propelled them both through the city, flinging webs as quickly as he could to get them to the strangely colored explosions that were careening high into the air from a warehouse near the waterfront. When they finally reached it, Peter could see Sue Storm standing outside the building, arms extended, and he realized why the explosions weren’t hitting any other structures.

“Hi, fellas,” Sue greeted, strain in her voice as she held her force field in place. “Party’s inside.”

Stupid Paste Pot, Peter thought as he and Wade careened into the warehouse to find a gigantic _mess_ of slug-looking aliens shooting energy beams out all over the place as Reed and Ben tried valiantly to corral them – trust him to get himself arrested and leave a whole warehouse full of aliens for them to clean up.

Reed’s head seemed to be in another room as Peter could only see one of his impossibly stretched-out arms. “Need help, big guy?” Peter shouted at Ben.

“Not on your life, kid,” Ben replied as he sent five of the slug things into the wall with one punch. “Johnny’s in the back, he could use a hand.”

Peter swung over a rafter and into the back area of the warehouse, Wade staying right with him on the ground. A wall of freight cars lined the far end of the room, and Peter could see that the majority of brightly colored explosions were coming from behind them. Johnny Storm, all flamed up, was fending off about ten smaller slug aliens which had obviously stopped him from getting to the Big Bad. Peter saw that Wade had already sliced two of the slugs into multiple pieces – he could easily help Johnny, so Peter kept swinging his way towards the explosions.

“Hurry up, Hot-Head,” Peter shot at Johnny as he passed.

But instead of his usual smart-ass retort, Johnny shouted, “Spidey, don’t go in there, wait for us—“

The genuine worry in Johnny’s voice made Peter pause for about half a second before he swung himself over the wall of freight cars. There it was – the Big Bad, a giant slug alien who was vomiting rainbow explosions out of the smoldering roof of the warehouse. He wasn’t sure what possible use this thing or its minions could be, but that was Paste Pot for you.

“Calm down, little fella,” Peter tried cajoling the giant undulating thing, but that only seemed to startle it because it whipped its huge, gross body around, its massive tail smacking into Peter and sending him flying. He sent out a strand of web and saw it connect with the things’ face, but it provided no purchase for him to stop his backwards momentum, and he felt himself hit the wall of the warehouse _real_ hard before everything went dark.

*~*~*

He felt himself floating, something sturdy and warm pressed up against his side, moving him through the air. As he blinked open his eyes he realized he was being carried, strong arms braced under his knees and back, and he curled into the shoulder his head rested against. The word _Wade_ crossed his mind, and he suddenly felt warm all over, safe, but also sort of exhilarated. He placed his hand on the lovely, leather-covered chest because his mind hadn’t woken up enough yet to remember why he shouldn’t do such a thing.

“I gotcha, Webs,” he heard a lovely voice say, and he hummed because he could also _feel_ the voice rumble inside the big, comfy chest, “you’re okay.”

Silly Wade, Peter thought – he _knew_ he was okay. How could he not be okay with these big strong arms holding him? These great big shoulders that he ran his hand across now, hearing himself continue to hum contentedly. He felt and heard laughter rumble through Wade’s chest. “Ooh, concussed Spidey is all handsy, huh?”

“Mmph,” Peter heard himself respond as they settled down and he felt his ass and legs rest on big, solid thighs. He wanted to touch those, too, but they were under him, so he settled for pressing his masked face even further into Wade’s massive shoulder, mouthing against it through his mask, squeezing the gorgeous, meaty pectorals that lay beneath his hand. _Oh,_ it felt just as good as he’d imagined, better even. He heard the soft laughter rumble again, and to his delight he was pulled even more securely against Wade’s broad chest and felt one big strong hand squeeze his shoulder a little.

“Does somebody have a size kink?” he heard Wade murmur, and then, “Oh, apparently so! Hey there, Spidey Junior.”

Peter’s brain chose that moment to fully wake up and alert him that he had a _massive_ boner. He glanced down – yup, massive, and his suit was doing _nothing_ to hide it, which had not been a problem since his teenage years but evidently concussion plus Wade’s stupid beautiful physique was just too much stimulation. He immediately released Wade’s left pectoral to cover his shame and tried to sit up, but that made his head spin sickeningly.

“Whoa, cutie, calm down,” Wade said, big arms steadying him. “You think you’re the first person to pop a surprise boner over this luscious bod?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I – objectified you just now,” Peter muttered, woozily, relieved that at least Spidey Junior had calmed down because of the nausea and also the crippling humiliation.

“No apology necessary,” Wade assured, leaning closer to him, intimately, “but if you ever pull a stunt like back there again, I’ll put you over my knee and spank that sexy ass in front of your Fantasti-Friends. Got it?”

Peter felt his stomach swoop, but in a decidedly more pleasant way this time. “Is that supposed to be a deterrent?” he heard come out of his own mouth.

Wade’s expressive mask eyes got comically big, but before he had a chance to respond, Peter heard the sound of Ben’s heavy footfalls and looked over to see the FF approach them. And here he was, cradled on Deadpool’s lap, and their foreheads had almost been touching a moment ago. And he was pretty sure he saw Johnny quickly put away his phone as they approached. Perfect.

“You all right, Spider-man?” Reed asked in his Serious Voice (so just his normal voice).

“Yeah,” Peter said, managing not to grimace as he slid off Wade’s lap and onto the crate they were perched on. “Sorry I showed up to be totally useless.”

“Actually, you distracted it enough that Ben and Johnny were able to take it out pretty quickly,” Sue said. “SHIELD’s on the way to clean up, so we can all go home.”

“And you’re gonna let Reed take a look at that noggin,” Ben said, pointing a rocky finger at Peter.

“Sounds like you’re in good hands,” Wade said, standing up.

“You’re going?” Peter asked and started to stand, but Wade put a big strong hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Spidey-pants,” he said, throwing his extra cute smirk at Peter as he walked away.

“Thank you, Wade!” Sue called, and Peter suddenly wanted to give her a big hug. Wade kind of ducked his head and waved as he hurried off – brash and loud as he usually was, Peter now knew that certain social situations made him anxious, so. He’d see him tomorrow night. That was fine.

After Sue and Reed and Ben were satisfied that he wasn’t about to die from a concussion (Johnny kept insisting that he could not care less if Peter’s dumb ass had head trauma), he was able to swing his way home, though a bit more cautiously than usual. The second he got into his sweet little apartment through the window, he checked his phone, thinking that maybe Wade had texted him or maybe he’d text Wade because sometimes they did that after crime-fighting to joke about something that had happened or something dumb one of them saw on the way home.

 There was no message from Wade, which was _fine_ and totally understandable, but there was a message from Johnny. It contained a picture of him, on Wade’s lap, with Wade’s crazy pretty arms around him, their foreheads almost touching – he _knew_ he’d seen that jerk take a picture. The accompanying text said: _2 kewt 4 wurds_

Peter texted back: _ur a dick_

Within seconds Johnny had texted back, but instead of the escalating insult he expected, the message said: _no srsly marry that boy he luvs u_

Peter stared at his phone. He was so damn tired, and his head hurt. And how _dare_ Johnny say such a thing. How dare Wade have such lovely lovely muscles that felt so safe and strong, and how dare he have such an extra cute smile and such beautiful sweet eyes, and rescue him from an alien and threaten to spank him and then just waltz off into the night.

He tossed his phone onto his too-big bed and started pulling off his suit. Part of him was so frustrated he wanted to sit down and cry. Another part of him – a bigger part, maybe – wanted to have a mini dance party. _Do it,_ this part whispered to him. _Tell him. Next time you see him, just tell him._

Peter sighed as he stepped under the warm spray of his shower. Oh boy was he gonna jerk off thinking of Wade right now, but this time it would be inspired not by fantasies but by memories from earlier that evening. _Real_ things. And maybe he’d listen to that reckless part of his brain tomorrow night and tell Wade how he felt.

Maybe.

 


	2. Big 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade goes home and reflects on the evening's events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cherry-pick from the Kelly/McGuinness Spider-man/Deadpool comics for this universe, and there are several references to events from that series here. Please forgive!

Wade’s bag made a sad, echo-y sound when he set it down on the linoleum kitchen floor of the shit!apartment he’d been in since leaving his wife. His awesome succubus, Queen of the Damned wife. He could afford a better place, sure, but he was a frugal guy (he _was_ [shut _up_ ]), and he was kind of hoping that maybe another – opportunity would come along. He was in a holding pattern. He _hated_ being in a holding pattern.

He dragged himself to the tiny bed, which was in the same room as the tiny kitchen, and threw himself on it. He missed his gaint, metal-as-fuck Hell bed. He missed Shiklah, truth be told, even though things had gotten pretty shit-tastic between them at the end. There’d been a time when he really thought he might be able to make that one work, but – well, being married to one person and having multiple amorous connections to other persons/creatures was one thing. Being married to one person and being _so_ in love with a different _particular_ person that it completely distracted you from the person you were married to, to the point where _they_ noticed before _you_ really did – that was a different thing.

He heaved a great sigh and felt his body sink into the shitty mattress of the tiny bed. Spidey had – flirted with him. Which wasn’t totally new, but tonight had felt – different. Probably because it had been combined with the emotional stress of Spidey getting whapped across a warehouse by a giant slug alien. And with the whole concussed Spidey getting all handsy with him. And with the unexpected-but-welcome appearance of Spidey Junior, which had _definitely_ never happened before.

It was because he’d hit his head, Wade’s meanest inner voice insisted. That wasn’t about _you_. He certainly wasn’t ogling your _muscles_ the other night when you had your shirt off – he was just shocked because it’d been a while since he’d seen what you look like. That’s all. He’s totally in love with Peter Parker, the Handsomest Man Alive (because holy _shit_ was that guy beautiful and there was no _way_ he and Spidey weren’t fucking, not when the guy’s patronus was a Spider-man that shimmered like a diamond-dusted sexy vampire). He’s not going to swing in and ask you to move into his sweet little apartment that he just moved into and is all excited about. And yeah, maybe he asked you over a couple of times to play video games but that’s because you’re _friends_ not because he’s _attracted_ to you and you’re only friends because you’re _useful_ and he feels _sorry_ for you because he’s a nice guy and he probably feels bad that you’re always doing pathetic shit to try to show him you love him.

There was only one effective way to shut Mean Voice up (temporarily). Wade reached into the drawer of the table next to his shitty bed and pulled out his trusty fleshlight. Well – it wasn’t really his trusty one. He’d had his trusty one for a good while, and it was covered in Lisa Frank stickers. This one he’d gotten more recently, and the outside of the canister was covered in Spider-man decals. There was only one person he thought of while fucking _this_ fleshlight, and it was the only one he’d been interested in fucking recently. His trusty Lisa Frank one sat packed in one of several boxes stacked against the wall.

He slid his pants down just enough to free Deadpool Junior. He was only going to uncover as much of himself as was absolutely necessary tonight. He unscrewed the cap and threw it off the bed, splooped some lotion into his hand from the econo-sized lotion pump on the table and smeared it carelessly over his dick, then slid the artificial-yet-oh-so-tight sheath down his length, as slowly as he could make himself. _Ah_ – there was that little bit of relief. He closed his eyes and started to move his hips at a leisurely pace, the soft, textured fake flesh yielding for him, feeling enough like the genuine article that he could pretend…

Spidey was under him, legs wrapped around him, arching up against him as he pounded that sweet little hole, _so_ fucking tight, and he was making the prettiest noises Wade had ever heard, and he held his weight on one hand to use the other to push Spidey’s mask above his mouth so he could hear them better, and that’s when Spidey leaned up and _kissed_ him, hungrily, and as he came into Spidey’s warm, tight little body he screamed into Spidey’s sweet mouth.

And then he was under Spidey, tied down with webbing (his _favorite_ ), or Spidey was just holding him down, that beautiful little body full of so much power, holding his wrists above his head while he fucked him, Wade’s knees pushed up to his goddamn shoulders, pinned and helpless, and Spidey towering over him, pounding into him, and then flipping him over, pushing his head into the mattress and pulling his ass up obscenely and _ramming_ him, holding his hips in place with his strong hands, those little hands that could fuck up somebody four times his size. And then he felt Spidey lean over him, as much as he could with their height difference and keep fucking him. “ _Mine_ ,” Spidey’s beautiful voice growled at him, “you’re _mine_ , Wade, _all_ mine.”

Wade was coming before he could pull himself back. He lay for a moment, recovering, trying to recall the images he’d just conjured, or more the feeling they’d given him, but that just made it more disappointing to be in his shit!apartment on his shit!bed by himself. So he got up, cleaned himself off, and cleaned his Spidey fleshlight, trying not to look at the blue and red decals covering it, then lay back down. He briefly considered fucking Spidey-light again – he’d threatened to _spank_ Spidey (which had just come out of his mouth before he really thought about it) and Spidey had _sassed_ him all provocative-like, but Mean Voice reminded him that was probably just a result of the head trauma, and the reminder of seeing Spidey’s tiny body flung across a warehouse and the sound it made when he smacked into the metal wall effectively killed any sexy feelings.

He picked up his phone, even though Slightly Less Mean Voice said he was probably with his weird Fantasta-Friends and they were taking care of him, and just texted a quick, _u ok bruh_. Yes – that was nice and not clingy or stalker-y, and maybe it would help things be less weird between them tomorrow night. And maybe Spidey would text back, just because he was polite of course, not because Wade was special to him or anything, but then at least he’d know he was okay.

He lay with his phone next to him and thought about how Spidey’s body had felt in his arms. It wasn’t like he hadn’t picked him up or carried him before in their crime-fighting exploits together. Tonight had felt different, though, maybe just because of those few seconds when he’d thought Spidey _had_ to be dead, before he’d gotten to the prone little body and been so relieved to find it breathing that he’d almost wept. It felt like the impression of Spidey’s shoulders, broad for his slight frame, and the side of his body that had pressed against Wade, the feeling of Spidey’s sweet weight resting on his lap were burned into his skin. And then there was the feeling of Spidey’s hands running over his arms, his shoulders, of Spidey’s mouth pressing against his chest, _wanting_ something. And yes, he got it, that was all just from the head trauma, but still – it had happened. He _had_ that.

Wade almost jumped out of his skin when his phone dibbled. Spidey. _I’m good! Thank you for saving my dumb ass! C u tomorrow?_

Wade’s heart felt like it did the ET glowing thing. Look at those precious little superfluous exclamation points. He texted back, _Fo Sho._ Yeah – that covered it.

He set his phone on the table and turned off the light and found that he felt – well, not _better_ maybe but not _as_ shitty. Goddamn, how pathetic was he that a little text and some unnecessary punctuation made him happy enough that he actually felt like he could sleep? Whatever – he was going to see Spidey tomorrow night, and that was enough. He was still alone. He still missed his wife. He still hated this shitty apartment. But.

As he drifted to sleep ( _sleep!_ ) he imagined a warm, tiny little body pressed up against his chest, how it would feel to curl around Spidey’s agile little back, to wrap his arm around the slender little waist, to feel his ribcage rise and fall and know he was safe, to be able to take care of him like he wanted to, at least while they slept. He imagined tucking Spidey’s head beneath his chin, all snug and secure, and imagined kissing soft lips and maybe murmuring something excessively gay to each other as they fell asleep, imagined kissing an impossibly smooth forehead, no masks between them. Maybe Spidey snored. It would probably be adorable.

He fell asleep and dreamed of tiny, adorable Spidey-snores and woke up feeling not-as-shitty as he sometimes did. It was enough. It was okay. He could see Spidey and have his back and be his friend. Maybe he’d look for a real apartment today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to oneFishtwoFish for the awesome fleshlight idea!!!
> 
> Next chapter: THE LOVE CONFESSIONS (and sexing!)


	3. Big 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just chattin' on a rooftop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cherry-pick from the Kelly/McGuinness Spider-man/Deadpool comics for this universe, and there are several references to events from that series here. Please forgive!

“…so I said, ‘Great, but what’s all this Astro-Glide for?’”

Spidey laughed, like a cute little “heh.” Not how he would normally laugh, like he found Wade’s stupid stories funnier than anyone else would, and he also didn’t get a long-suffering “Waaaade” which was Spidey’s other most frequent reaction to his stupid, usually gross stories. Just a “heh.”

Wade went back to munching on his banh mi, which was _delicious._ Spidey was encouraging him to expand his ethnic street food repertoire, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t eaten banh mi before (he was pretty sure he’d had it _in_ Vietnam) but this one was maybe the tastiest thing he’d ever eaten, possibly because Spidey had surprised him with it when he’d met him on this rooftop for their Mid-Crime-Fighting Snack. He looked over and saw that Spidey had unwrapped his sandwich but not touched it.

Spidey had been quiet recently. And sure, Spidey’s version of Quiet was probably just Normal for most people. It had been a couple of days since the warehouse and the Giant Alien Slug and the handsy business, so Wade assumed he wasn’t still recovering from his injury since, as Spidey had sassily informed him on several occasions, he may not have Wade’s healing factor but it was still a pretty good healing factor damnit. Wade figured, then, that the Quiet was probably because of some anniversary of one of the many horribly sad things that had happened to Spidey in his relatively short life, so he hadn’t said anything about it. When Wade was having a Sad-i-versary, he just wanted as much distraction as possible, so he’d tried to insert even more stupid stories than usual into their time together.

He realized Spidey was looking at him. Was he eating weird? Had he said some of the above out loud? He decided on deflection. “You should eat, Webs – don’t want to pass out while you’re doing your travel-quickly-at-unnecessarily-large-heights thing.”

“I love you.”

….Wade felt his mouth freeze around a bite of spicy pork.

“I’m sorry!” Spidey’s hands flew to his head, “I’m so sorry, I know I’m supposed to, like, take you on dates and even, like, be together for a while before I say that, but –“

Wade held up a hand and Spidey stopped short, mask frozen in what Wade knew was his Super Anxious expression. He tried to swallow his banh mi. He mostly succeeded. “Wait. Wh--?”

“I’m sorry,” Spidey said in a kind of tortured voice, “I know this is a shitty thing to do, but – I had to tell you. I know I’m ruining our bro-ship, and that’s why I waited so long –“

So long? Wha --? Wade’s brain, which was not an organized place to begin with, was fucking spinning like one of those awful carnival rides where the cup spins and the whole things spins and you spin and everyone throws up funnel cake. He held up his hand again, taking a breath. “Wait. You --?”

“I love you,” Spidey repeated. “I’m sorry. I just – I had to tell you.”

Wade sat for a while. Possibly a very short while, but it felt like a long while. He was dead. He’d actually died. They were both dead. Or this was the Chameleon. Or goddamn Mysterio was fucking with them _again_ and the real Spidey was trapped somewhere and Wade needed to go rescue him. 

But that sure did seem like Authentic!Spidey sitting across from him, looking sad and exhausted and like an exposed nerve. He opened his mouth to say something like “oh my darling yes me too” or “marry me and knock me up” or even “wow that’s great” but all that came out was a sustained gasping noise.

Thankfully, Spidey seemed undeterred. “And I have to do this, too.”

He looked around, took Wade’s hand (and the contact _zinged_ with electricity even more than usual) and quickly pulled him into a little greenhouse that just so happened to be on this rooftop. Inside, Wade could make out a little community garden. Spidey flipped a switch that gave just enough light for them to see each other without being harsh. He took a quick look around the space, then reached for the edges of his mask, and before Wade could tell him he didn’t have to, that it didn’t matter, that he hadn’t even started processing the other thing yet and couldn’t handle this as well, Spidey pulled his mask off.

Wade stared into huge, gorgeous brown eyes that looked worried and also kind of resigned, like he was bracing himself.

…..Of course this was him. Of _course_ he was. And Wade realized he should have _known._ How could he have not figured this one out? It made everything make sense – the body-guard thing, the sparkly Spidey patronus…

And then he remembered a door opening and this beautiful face in front of him, eyes lighting up when he saw it was Wade (how had he not _noticed_ that?), and then Wade had lifted a shotgun and –

“Wade?” came the beautiful voice, finally not muffled by a mask.

“I shot you.”

He watched the giant brown eyes change from anxious and confused to something else, something sweet and warm that made him ache. “Oh – but –“

“I _killed_ you,” he heard his own voice break, and oh – was he going to _cry_ now? Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Good. He covered his masked eyes with his hand. “ _Twice_.”

“Oh, Wade, it’s – it’s okay, don’t –“

Wade’s chest suddenly felt like it was caving in, like something at his core was going to shake apart. His breath came in great, heaving gasps. Panic attack, he thought first, but then realized no, he was just – fucking _sobbing,_ like wracking-his-whole body sobs, and trying desperately to hold it in was just making it worse. He felt Spidey move closer to him, hands hovering over him, then touching him, tentatively rubbing over his shaking shoulders and back and arms.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t – please don’t cry!”

And he tried _so_ hard to comply with that request, but it just – Spidey was _Peter Parker_ and all he could think of was the body, _Spidey’s_ body, on the ground in a pool of blood with no face because Wade had blown it off and it was his _Spidey_ and why had he ever killed anyone _ever,_ and then there was the _love_ word and now Spidey’s hands were on him trying so hard to comfort him, and it was just – a _lot._

He felt Spidey’s fingers at the edges of his mask, and he heard himself whimper through lips that he was biting so hard, but he didn’t protest as Spidey carefully exposed his awful head and face, made _even_ awfuller than usual by ugly-sobbing no doubt, because his humiliation might as well be complete, right? He felt Spidey kiss his shaking forehead, his temple, his cheek, his _nose,_ his other cheek, as if hoping he’d find the right combination of kisses that would make Wade stop crying, and he clutched at his own chest and realized it _was_ stopping, the wracking feeling. He let Spidey – Peter, pull him against his body, wrapping his arms around him.

“I’m okay, see?” he said. “You saved me.”

He wrapped his own arms around Spidey’s strong, slight body and closed his eyes, sobs subsiding into shuddering breaths.

“It’s okay,” Spidey murmured, soothingly, “it’s okay, babe – oh! I’m sorry, that just slipped –“

Wade squeezed him tighter and decided two important things in that moment: one, Spidey calling him “babe” while holding him in his arms was like having melted butter poured over his brain and was now essential to his life, and two, if he by some miracle didn’t fuck this up right away and he and Spidey were like _together_ for a while he was never ever going to gross-sob all over him again.

For another seemingly long moment that was probably really a short moment, they just stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, no sound except the slight buzzing of the light.

“Hey,” Wade finally said, voice coming out like sand-paper on glass, “remember that time you told me you loved me and I snotted all over you?”

Spidey laughed, tightening his hold on him a little. “Well, this is a little different than how I fantasized, but –“

Wade pulled back, looking once again at the impossibly perfect face, those sweet pretty eyes. “Fanta…sized…?”

Spidey nodded. “It’s why I’ve been so weird lately. I mean – I’ve felt like this for a _while_ , but recently it just – came to a head or something, and I’m sorry I’ve been so awkward, like, looking at you and touching you –“

It was good that he trailed off because Wade couldn’t hear anything anymore over the happy screaming that was going on in his head. “Really?” he heard himself ask in a small voice.

Spidey looked him in the eye, understood what he was asking. “Really,” he said.

And _this_ was surely the moment when he’d change back into the Chameleon or when Mysterio would ghost out of the wall and laugh his ass off at him. But it didn’t happen. They just stayed standing with their masks off, looking at each other, Spider-man and Deadpool, Wade and…Peter.

Wade reached out and cupped the beautiful face in his hands, because he couldn’t help it. Spidey reached up and held Wade’s hands on his face with both of his, and he closed his eyes and exhaled, like he was _so_ happy for Wade to be touching him.

“So you’re not,” Spidey asked in a voice that shook a little, “you’re not – disappointed?”

Wade blinked. “Disappointed?”

Spidey nodded, big pretty brown eyes all full of stress, and it was _so_ different to _see_ them instead of just inferring through mask expression, and it was almost _too_ much and made his heart feel like it was being squeezed and he had a feeling he was in for a _lot_ of that feeling in the near future.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, wrangling his voice, “how disappointing that my life-long crush turns out to be a Super Good Guy who’s an ethical philanthropist and also a science genius and also the Hottest Human in the World. Poor me.”

He watched that lovely mouth fall open just a little and then finally smile, those pretty warm eyes light up and also get all shiny with tears and _oh no_ that was _not_ what he meant to do _fuck_ but Spidey was cradling his head in his hand and pulling him in.

“No no, snotty!” he protested, weakly. He heard Spidey mutter something about not giving a fuck and suddenly…

_Ah._

_Kiss._

His brain had slowed to molasses-rate, and he almost forgot to close his eyes. It was soft and awkward and tentative and _perfect_.

And then it was _less_ awkward and _less_ tentative and soft and more – _insistent_ and Spidey’s hand was on his hip and he was pulling Spidey’s body up against his and oh _my…_

“Please come home with me,” Peter kind of growled into his ear.

Wade shivered. “What about – crime-fighting?”

“I can ask the FF to cover for us,” Peter said, pulling back and suddenly looking sheepish, doing that thing Spidey sometimes did where he rubbed the back of his neck and _fuck_ he was so cute. “They’ve actually been kind of blowing up my phone waiting for um – _this_.”

“For realz?” Wade asked, and Spidey nodded, smiling bashfully. Huh! The FF shipped it. Wonder upon wonders.

“I would love to come home with you,” he said, feeling a wave of happy roll luxuriously through his whole body, “Peter Parker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait and post this with their First Time as one big chapter but then I decided to split it into two chapters whoops. Smex is coming SOOOON!!!!!!


	4. Big 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter brings Wade home with him.

When Peter had pulled out his phone to ask the FF to cover their route, he discovered he already had a text from Johnny that said _GOD FINALLY don’t u fuck this up dingus_ and took that to mean that they already knew what to do. He decided against looking at the rest of the _many_ texts he had from Johnny and Sue (and Ben, turned out, and wow, even one text from Reed that said “Good luck tonight, sport”) and focused on getting Wade back to his sweet little new place.

They stopped in the alley to change because for some reason Peter wanted to go through the door and not the window. He understood why when he led Wade by the hand into his home and was almost overwhelmed by a feeling of _right, good, yes._ It wasn’t like Wade hadn’t been to his place before, but like everything else that had happened that night so far, this was different.

He realized he was making a beeline for the bedroom and stopped, turning awkwardly to Wade, who had put his mask back on for the journey. “Can I get you, um – like a snack? Or – drink?”

“Oh, I mean,” Wade faltered, “if you – do you want to --?”

Peter realized Wade was holding his duffle and he was being a _terrible_ host. He abruptly plucked the bag from Wade’s hands, nearly dropped it, and set it on his tiny kitchen table. And they both just stood there a moment because Peter had succeeded in making this perfect evening _awkward_ and now Wade would realize his mistake and leave. Wonderful.

To his surprise, Wade reached up and pulled his mask off, setting it on top of his duffle, and then looked at Peter kind of – anxiously? And something about the sight of that familiar face and those pretty blue eyes made him bold.

“Have I shown you the bedroom?” Peter asked.

The anxiety left Wade’s face and he smirked in that unbearably cute way. “Why, no, you have not.”

Peter took Wade’s hand again and led him through the smallish living room into the bedroom, where Peter realized that, of course, he’d chosen that morning to not make his bed.

“Sorry,” he muttered, quickly arranging the bedspread over the rumpled sheets, but then he felt Wade’s tall frame move up behind him, big hands coming to rest on his shoulders, and his brain shut down for a moment. He closed his eyes and sighed as warm, muscular arms encircled his waist, broad chest pressed up against his back.

“We don’t have to do it all tonight,” Wade said into his ear. “We could cuddle. Lay next to each other and hold hands, chastely.”

He turned his head enough to see Wade’s face. “Is that – do you want to do that?”

While his expression didn’t change, Peter saw something flash in Wade’s eyes _._ And Wade _saw_ that he’d seen it, and they both giggled, and Peter kissed him for the second time that night, turning his body in to Wade’s much bigger body, running his hands over as much of it as he could. He moved to take off his hoodie, cupping Wade’s face with one hand for balance, and he felt Wade’s big strong hands move to help him, _Wade’s hands_ on him, helping him unzip his jeans, not breaking the kiss until they needed to lift his t-shirt over his head.

“I’m kinda gross,” Peter said, a bit breathlessly. “Do you want me to --?”

“No,” Wade said before tilting Peter’s head to get at his neck, kissing and licking and then _sucking_ in a way that made Peter moan and clutch at Wade’s sturdy shoulders. He felt rough fingers slip just into the waistband of his boxer-briefs, as if asking, and in reply he reached his own hand down and quickly slid them over his hips, stepping out of them as Wade guided him down onto the bed, one big hand on his lower back.

He was naked. Laying stretched out on his too-big bed. With Wade Wilson towering over him, looking at him like he was one of those gigantic sandwiches they have at office parties sometimes. It was too – this was a dream, or he was dead, or this wasn’t Wade but a clone of Wade or a robot that looked like Wade, or Mysterio was fucking with them _again._

He followed Wade’s eyes, which had been roving all over his body, to where they had settled, and saw that wow, yes, Spidey Junior was _here_ for it. His eyes flitted back up to Wade’s face, nervous – was he big enough? His experience with dudes was negligible, but he thought he was pretty okay, but Wade had surely seen his share of – _parts,_ and was he disappointed?

Wade’s tongue flicked out and licked his lips. “Spidey,” he said in a low voice, looking up at Peter’s face, “can I _please_ suck your cock?”

_Oh_ wow. “Anything,” Peter barely heard himself say over his pulse pounding in his ears, “you can do anything you want, babe.”

Aw _shit_ he’d called him the stupid gross pet name again, but Wade grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, that’s – I won’t hold you to that one, cutie, cuz there’s a _lot_ of things…”

Peter thought, as Wade settled over his body and leaned down over his very erect dick, that he probably wanted to spend the rest of his life going through each and every single one of those things that Wade wanted to do to him and then come up with some more.

He gasped and arched up as Wade took him into his mouth and realized it had _been_ a while. He heard and felt Wade laugh a little and then two warm, huge hands gently took hold of his hips and pressed them against the mattress as Wade took him, _shit, all_ the way down and he had to be doing the throat opening thing that Peter had kind of thought was a myth but evidently not.

Wade started to move, slowly, tongue undulating obscenely against Peter’s cock, and Peter let out a broken, totally un-suave sound, reaching down to put his hands over Wade’s big ones that covered his hips. He couldn’t _move_ , only kind of twist fruitlessly as Wade moved just enough to torture him ( _good_ torture), and Peter stopped caring what he sounded like or looked like and just responded, whimpering and pleading and praising. He felt a rough thumb stroke the skin right on the inside of his hip joint.

And then Wade stopped and pulled off of his cock. Peter leaned up to ask what was wrong, if he’d done something weird, but then he saw that Wade had his own finger in his mouth and was slicking it up as he looked right at Peter. “Is this okay?” he asked once he was satisfied.

Oh. _Oh._ Peter nodded before he could think too much, because it had been a while since someone else had done _that_ for him, but the thought of _Wade_ touching him _there_ was…

He let Wade put his knees over his shoulders and felt a mighty shudder run through him as a textured, warm, wet finger gently circled his asshole which he could feel contract involuntarily, but then the finger was _pressing_ and he felt it breach through the first ring of muscle and steadily wiggle its way deeper and _fuck_ it _burned_ and he felt dizzy because Wade was touching him _inside_ —

And then Wade’s mouth was back on his cock, moving faster now, and the finger in his ass was twisting and making that sweet, perfect _burn_ and it was _Wade,_ it was _Wade_ doing all of this to him, taking him apart, and there was no way he could move his hips to get relief and a big strong hand was gripping his thigh to hold him steady, and then Wade found the spot inside of him that made him _scream_ and fuck he wasn’t sure what the sound-proofing was like in this new place but then he didn’t care because he was coming into Wade’s mouth, arching up into it.

When his body finally stopped convulsing and sank into the mattress, he watched as Wade pulled off of his cock, sucking all the way as if making sure he got every last drop, and he barely registered the sting of Wade’s finger pulling out of him. Peter lay panting and Wade looked at him a moment, as if weighing a decision, and then held Peter’s gaze as he popped the finger he’d has inside of him into his mouth, sucking luxuriously.

“Jesus Mother _Fuck_ ,” Peter heard come out of his own mouth, and Wade grinned, and it was _filthy_ and Peter felt arousal roll through his core (thanks, Spidey recovery powers). He leaned up and reached for Wade’s broad shoulders and pulled him down into a kiss, plunging his tongue into Wade’s mouth to taste himself, and Wade _moaned_.

“Oh, honey,” Wade purred when they broke apart, “oh, you’re gonna be the fucking _end_ of me, huh?”

Peter responded by kissing him again and tugging insistently at the hoodie that Wade was still wearing for some reason. Wade huffed a gentle laugh and obligingly unzipped his outerwear and slid it off, but then there remained the problem of his t-shirt and jeans. Peter slid his hands up under the shirt, going after Wade’s glorious chest once he’d exposed it, running his tongue over the muscular pecs just like he’d imagined (except he wasn’t being quite as suave as he’d planned but they’d pretty much abandoned suave at this point). He heard Wade let out a simply beautiful little cry when he ran his tongue over one of his nipples, grazing it with his teeth, but then Wade’s hands were on his shoulders, holding him back.

Oh shit. “I’m sorry, did I --?”

“No no no,” Wade comforted immediately, “that’s – it’s great, but you don’t have to –“

Wade trailed off, looking away from him, and he understood. He knew how Wade felt about his body, and much as he wanted to tell him that he didn’t care and it was _his_ body and so he loved it, Peter knew that wasn’t the right move, not now.

But that didn’t change the fact that to him Wade’s body was a great big gorgeous candy bar that he very much wanted unwrapped and quickly. “Please, can I?” he asked, trying _so_ hard not to pressure him.

Wade looked at him for a moment, then abruptly pulled his shirt over his head, as if ripping off a bandage. Peter instantly covered the exposed skin with his hands, trying to touch all of it at once, then reigning himself in because he didn’t want to freak his guy out (Oh! _His_ guy). He pressed his face against Wade’s stomach, strong abs underneath broken, scarred skin which Peter moved his lips over as gently as he could. He felt Wade shudder and he looked up to check in with him and saw that while he looked kind of like a deer in headlights he also looked very, _very_ aroused. And Peter realized that Wade hadn’t come yet. He carefully put his hand over the crotch of Wade’s jeans where Deadpool Junior was struggling against his denim prison.

Wade groaned, and he let Peter lower him down onto the bed and unzip his jeans, scooting them down over his hips as Peter settled between his legs. This was good for now, Peter thought, watching Wade’s face carefully for any sign of distress as he deftly freed Wade’s cock from his boxer-briefs.

And _there_ it was, and Peter had kind of seen it before but not like _this_ and he wanted to eat it like a fucking _creamsicle._ He wrapped a hand around the base (and fought a wave of dizziness at the feel of how his fingers just fit around it) and licked his lips, realizing that he should also have slicked up his hand and shit he always forgot that part, but Wade was panting and looking up at him just the way he’d imagined, better than that, so he took Wade’s cock into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the head. He didn’t have a ton of experience with this, but he enjoyed it and he’d gotten generally positive reviews, and judging by the way Wade whimpered and clutched at his shoulders he was doing okay.

It did not take long for Wade to come, shuddering deliciously into his mouth, but that was the plan. Peter carefully licked Wade clean, and then pushed himself up onto his knees so he could kiss his way up Wade’s bare torso. “Could I, um,” he started, suddenly not sure how to ask, “do you like it when, um –“

He saw Wade realize what he was asking because his blue eyes went wide. It occurred to Peter then that Wade hadn’t gone past one finger with him – because he didn’t want to go that far tonight? “Is that,” Wade faltered, “would you – do you want to?”

Peter nodded, stroking Wade’s chest with his thumb. “Only if you want me to, though. Like you said, we don’t have to do it all tonight, we’ve got time.”

And Wade’s eyes turned warm and kind of aching, and Peter understood because the thought of having _time,_ of doing this together often – _unf_. “Yeah,” Wade said, “of course I want you to, Spidey. Peter.”

Ooh, and he wanted to hear his name on Wade’s lips more, so he made short work of Wade’s jeans and underwear, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of Wade’s big, strong frame stretched out on his bed. Oh _boy_. He had enough presence of mind to grab the lube from his nightstand drawer before eagerly crawling up the bed to kneel between Wade’s thighs and indulged in gently squeezing one of them, watching the muscle ripple as Wade shifted in response.

“You okay?” Peter asked, looking up at him.

Wade nodded, but Peter could see that a crimson flush was creeping over his face and even down his neck. “Could we maybe turn off the lamp?” he asked.

Peter reached over him and obliged, switching off his little bedside lamp so there was only light coming in from the living room. Wade seemed to relax immediately, and Peter gave his knee a reassuring kiss as he pulled it up, setting Wade’s feet flat on the bed and nudging them as far apart as they’d go. He thought he could feel his heart push against his sternum as he looked at Wade in the dim light, spread and open before him, waiting for him.

It occurred to him suddenly that he’d only done what he was about to do a couple of times, and not recently. “You tell me the second something doesn’t feel good, okay?” he instructed as he squeezed a good amount of lube onto his fingers.

Wade nodded, and Peter carefully parted his cheeks with one hand and then brought his slick fingers to touch Wade’s entrance, and shit he should have warmed the lube up more, but Wade let out his breath in a rush and gripped the bedspread, so Peter started gently circling, applying slight pressure to the puckered, twitching little spot, and it slowly yielded to him until he was able to slide one finger in and soon another finger alongside that one. He gently slid them in and out of Wade’s warm, tight body, twisting them a bit, and then tentatively scissoring them to work the muscles open and relaxed, the whole time concentrating on breathing through his nose so that wouldn’t pass out just from the sensation of touching Wade inside and watching him whimper and sigh.

“I’m good, baby,” Wade panted.

“Are you sure?” Peter asked. His heart had leapt at the sweet pet name, but he did not feel at all like he’d done a sufficient job.

“Yes,” Wade said, voice breaking a little, “please, please please _please_ fuck me, Spidey–“

Oh and that did it – Peter heard himself let out what sounded very like a growl, and heard Wade give a little sob of relief as he quickly maneuvered his legs over his shoulders, taking hold of his hips. He had the sudden desire to flip Wade over, to pull his ass up and _plow_ into it, but no, not this time – later, he promised himself. He felt with his hands to apply more lube to his own cock, then carefully held Wade’s slick hole open as he slid himself partway in.

Wade’s hands reached desperately for his shoulders, trying to pull them together, but Peter pushed him back with one hand, gently but firmly. He was not going to rush this, and he was not going to hurt Wade, no matter how prettily he whined and squirmed. Holding his hips steady, Peter pressed himself further into the impossibly tight, hot body until he was in to the hilt, then stayed there for a moment, savoring, letting them both get used to the feeling.

“God- _damnit_ , Peter!” Wade outright yelled, “I’m _dying, please!”_

Peter laughed in spite of himself and gave Wade’s thigh a little swat without thinking, but then he took pity and started to move and Wade moaned happily in response, and Peter realized that was the first time he’d heard Wade say his name like it was something familiar.

He held Wade’s hips firmly, adjusting them and leaning up to fold the giant body almost totally in half until Wade cried out in a way that told him he was hitting the right spot, and he increased his speed a bit. Wade’s muscular arms tensed beautifully as he grabbed for Peter’s shoulders again, and his time Peter let him, content to use his Spidey strength to hold him by the hips, reveling in the feeling of having this powerful, huge body at his mercy, and hearing Wade _beg_ for it, for _him._

He reached between them to pump Wade’s very hard cock, and shit it probably wasn’t slick enough again but he was too close to stop and Wade was pleading with him to go faster and so he did, _ramming_ into him at a punishing pace, and then he felt Wade shudder and felt his insides clinch around him, and the sensation made him crest and he was coming, way too soon, coming into Wade’s body.

He slipped himself out, immediately missing the feeling of being _joined_ , and they rested their foreheads together, both breathing heavily. Peter kissed Wade and then moved to the bathroom on shaky legs, wanting to get them cleaned up quickly so that cuddling could happen. As he wetted a towel in warm water, he flashed back to only a few nights before when he’d been so sad and lovesick, wishing for Wade to be waiting for him in his bed.

“We’re not dead, right?” Peter checked as he gently wiped the come from Wade’s lovely stomach. “And this isn’t some Mysterio thing where he’s gonna ghost out of the wall in a second and laugh at us and we go insane, right?”

“I had the same thought,” Wade admitted, getting up to help him change the bedspread (because _wow_ they’d made a mess), “and I decided that I don’t care and I’m going to enjoy whatever it is for as long as it lasts.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, scooting under the fresh bedspread and pulling it back for Wade to slide in next to him, and he’d been right about the bed – it was the perfect size for the two of them, especially when Wade wrapped his big strong arms around him and pulled him close and they kissed. _Mmm._

“Who’s this? Oh--!”

Peter suddenly realized that Wade was looking straight at his nightstand, where he kept his Deadpool plushie. He felt himself flush red as Wade reached across him to retrieve it.

“I know this guy,” Wade said, laughing affectionately. “You kept him?”

“You were _not_ supposed to see that,” Peter groaned, hiding his face in Wade’s neck.

“Aw, Spidey, it’s okay,” Wade said, kissing his temple, “there’s something on _my_ nightstand that’s _much_ more embarrassing than this.”

Peter’s ears perked up. “Spidey plushie?”

“Kiiind of,” Wade replied.

“Well, I’ll give you a minute to hide it when we go get all your stuff tomorrow.”

Wade pulled back from him so that he could see his face. “Stuff?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Peter said, blushing again, “earlier when I asked if you would come home with me I meant, like, for real.”

Wade’s eyes went wide.

“But you don’t have to, I mean,” Peter started and then stopped himself. “Okay, you actually kind of _do_ have to because I want to do this all the time.” And make breakfast with you and take such good care of you and have all kinds of weird sex and also snuggle, he managed to keep inside.

“You sure? I mean – I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I can be a _lot_ , and I don’t want you to fall out of love with me _too_ quickly.”

Peter started to say that was ridiculous and he would _never_ fall out of love with him, but he didn’t want to be dismissive, and he knew Wade had a point. But he was pushing thirty for heaven’s sake – he’d _been_ here before, done the wait-to-move-in thing, and he knew what could happen if you waited too long to do things you knew you wanted.

“When I’m not with you, all I think about is you,” he confessed. “Please move in with me.”

Wade let out a small sound, like a sigh, and said, “Well -- okay, then.”

Peter kissed him again, and he was starting to lose count of how many kisses that was, and he was okay with that. He was delirious with happy. “Are _you_ sure you want to live with someone who says amazingly gay stuff like that? Cuz I think that’s gonna be a regular thing.”

“Oh, Sugar Bear,” Wade said, petting his hair, “we are gonna be _so_ gay. We will be the most Exemplary Gay Couple that has ever Gayed.”

And they both laughed, and they took turns cupping their hands over their mouths and saying “gaaay” like the Homophobic Seal and making each other laugh harder whenever it started to die down, until they finally exhausted themselves and started drifting to sleep.

“Love you, Spidey,” he heard Wade slur into his hair.

Peter wanted to return the sentiment, but he was too sleepy to speak, so he just burrowed a bit further into Wade’s neck. He’d tell him in the morning.

He’d tell him _every_ morning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to everyone who asked for more of this fic and kudosed/commented so sweetly and waited so patiently!!!
> 
> And THANK YOU to Persephoniac for the original prompt!!!!!
> 
> This was SO fun. Thank you all for letting me indulge my schmoopy, romantic soul.
> 
> Next up: Halloween Kinks!!! And then desperation/wetting, then more age play, then pet play, and MORE!
> 
> Tell me what you'd like to see! Come visit me on the tumblr! https://crockzilla.tumblr.com/


	5. Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every new relationship has "firsts," meeting the fam, discussing ex-lovers, finding each other's sex-toys...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bless my sweet beta, QQI25!!!!
> 
> I've split the first set of "firsts" (heh) over this chapter and the next.

“So you’ve done sexy things with a dude-type before?”

Peter blinked at his boyfriend (and they were boyfriends now Wade had said so and he’d agreed, hooray!) who was wearing the most demented grin, looking at him expectantly while topping off his coffee.

“I have,” he confirmed, sipping his newly-warm coffee as Wade sat down with him at their table (in their kitchen). “A little.”

Wade just continued smiling at him, expectantly, squenching his shoulders a bit. Peter laughed, which was something he did so much this week that his face was starting to get sore. “Are you – surprised by that?”

“No!” Wade answered, quickly. “I’m just finding out all kinds of interesting things about you in a very short time and it’s very very exciting. So, what, are we talking boyfriends? Fooling-around with Johnny Storm when you were both nubile teenagers trying to cope with the stress of superhero-ing?”

“No!” Peter reacted, then felt himself blush. Shit. Wade’s smile widened and his shoulders squenched excitedly again. “Okay, like – once, when we were kinda drunk.”

“On top of the Statue of Liberty?”

“What? No! Why would we --?”

“Isn’t that your special secret meeting place?” Wade asked, sipping his coffee innocently.

“Well yeah, but we didn’t fool around there,” Peter insisted, then frowned. “But that would have been awesome. Why didn’t we?”

“ ‘S not too late.”

Peter’s heart plummeted, which Wade must have seen from his face (because he was so good at reading him already and gosh this thing with them was intense). “Not because I’m releasing you from my romantic clutches, um, ever,” Wade amended, “but I guess you should probably know that I’m kind of poly.”

“Poly?” Peter repeated, feeling lame.

Wade seemed to think it was cute, though. “It’s when your brain is set up where you don’t immediately get jealous at the thought of your honey being into or doing stuff with other persons or things,” he explained, “or also when you can be into or do stuff with multiple persons or things while being totes in love with one person, or when you can be in love with multiple persons. Or things.”

Peter thought for a moment. He’d known Wade had an open-relationship deal his ex-wife (the beautiful succubus who he didn’t like to think about because living up to that was not going to happen for him) but “poly” sounded somewhat different from that.

“Isn’t that kind of – just how life is?” he mused. “Like, just how things go? You love people, and it doesn’t work out for – whatever reason, but you still love them, but it doesn’t keep you from loving somebody else a lot?”

Wade looked at him in a way he hadn’t ever quite looked at him before. Peter’s face felt hot again. Guh. “I – yeah,” Wade replied. “Yeah, I think so.”

There followed one of those silences during which they just looked into each other’s eyes, which was a very normal part of being newly in love but felt just amazing and like time slowed down and Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.

“That was the easiest poly discussion ever,” Wade observed with a laugh.

“I mean,” Peter shrugged, “if you ever want to, like, actually do sexy things with somebody else, we should – have more of a talk, maybe.”

“Of course!” he said, quickly (because as Peter was discovering Wade took anything to do with sex ethics very seriously). “But I’m, uh – I’m not there. I just want to – spend every second curled up with you in a ball and I hope that’s not weird.”

Ah. Peter scooted his chair closer to his boyfriend’s. “Same.”

Wade made a noise that sounded remarkably like “squee,” if that was a word. “So,” he straightened, getting back to business, “your gay-speriences – just Lady Liberty groping with Johnny, or --?”

Peter rolled his eyes, affectionately. He did not particularly want to think about his and Johnny’s aborted, sloppy attempt at having a physical relationship, which had really just been two lonely, emotionally-repressed teenagers trying to comfort each other. His lonely, lame, teenage self was not something he particularly wanted to think about at all.

“My first sexual thing ever was with a guy,” Peter heard himself say, “but it was not really, uh, consensual.”

Huh. Well. That had come outside.

Wade was again looking at him in a way that he hadn’t before, but it was a very different expression than he’d worn earlier. He wasn’t quite – freaking out, just kind of, still. Looking at him. “Yeah?” he said, calmly.

“Yeah. I was like – high school or maybe middle school, and this older guy started paying attention to me, and I was sort of a pathetic little kid what with the having no friends and being an orphan and what not.”

Wade nodded, and Peter was suddenly aware that he was working hard to control his face and his breathing, which sounded a bit too slow and deliberate. He should probably stop there, because it wasn’t as if what happened to him hadn’t happened to a lot of people, probably to Wade, even. And that thought made him feel like there was a piece of hot metal being shoved into his chest, and he suddenly wondered if that was the feeling that Wade was working so hard to conceal.

“It turned out okay,” he said, needing to comfort his guy somehow. “It just happened a couple of times, I stopped hanging out with him, told May and Ben.”

God, May and Ben had been great about it. They hadn’t freaked out, they’d told him it wasn’t his fault and that he was so brave to tell them, all the right things, the things he’d since said to kids he’d encountered in similar situations. But now that he was watching Wade listen to him, he wondered if they hadn’t had to work really hard to cover up some not-so-calm feelings. 

“Firstly, I am so sorry that happened to you,” Wade said, his voice steady but with a little bit of some fierce emotion in it, “secondly, you sure as hell shouldn’t worry about making me feel better about your trauma, sugar bear.”

That struck Peter as a profoundly kind thing to say. No one had really said that to him before. He hadn’t really told anyone about that since telling his aunt and uncle, and the occasional kid who needed to know that Spider-man had dealt with something like they had.

But he suddenly felt kind of hot inside, and not in the fun way. Now Wade maybe thought he was – damaged or something, that he needed to be cared for, that he was fragile. It had been bad enough telling Wade his “tragic back story,” which in his mind was nothing compared to the horror movie that had been Wade’s life.

“I’m okay,” he said, hearing his trademark Parker defensiveness creep into his voice. “I’m not, like – traumatized or anything, I don’t think about it. You just asked, so.”

 “Of course you’re okay,” Wade said, confidently now. “Me, too. Doesn’t mean we don’t get to be mad at the fucking monsters who took advantage of us.”

It occurred to him that maybe, while Peter felt like he had never known how to talk to anybody, it was also true that very few people knew how to talk to him _._ But Wade sure did, seemed like. He sat for a moment, letting his boyfriend’s words kind of work on him, and he realized they were looking into each other’s eyes in silence again. Differently, this time.

“I have a running list,” Wade said, finally, “of moments in your life I’d like to time-travel back to. I’m afraid that one’s going on the list.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Wade said, gravely. “I would go back and flay that motherfucker alive. I would take his skin off very slowly, and I would fashion it into a hat, and I would wear it in front of him before he inevitably bled to death, or whatever happens when you take someone’s skin off, which seems like something I should know. I wouldn’t do that in front of baby-you, of course.”

“I’m not, like, devastated that it happened,” Peter said, feeling something kind of ease inside of himself. “Anything bad that’s happened to me, there are lots of other people who’ve been through similar stuff, you know?”

“Sure,” Wade said with a shrug, “that’s what makes you Spidey. I’m sorry I want to flay someone alive and make a hat from their skin.”

Peter laughed out loud, and somehow they ended up kissing, which they ended up doing a lot this week, which he hoped they ended up doing a lot for a long while.

“I’ve had other actual gay-speriences, as you call them,” Peter reassured him when they broke apart. “Consensual ones. Sexy ones, even. Mostly awkward, though.”

“Let’s get in the shower,” Wade said, scooping him up abruptly into his arms (his big, strong, meaty arms that Peter was just developing more of a fetish for now that he was getting picked up in them so frequently), “and you can tell me all about each and every one  of your sexy-guy-on-guy adventures.”

“And then your turn?” Peter asked, though he was somewhat hesitant to learn about how many exciting lovers Wade had been with before him.

“Tell you what,” Wade suggested, efficiently divesting them both of their home-hoodies, “I’ll give you my sexy backstory via one trick I learned from each lover which you now get to benefit from. Good?”

Peter gave his boyfriend an approving smack on the ass (which he probably enjoyed too much) as he followed him into their bathroom. Good.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to Lomitosupersuavecito for requesting relationship "firsts!!!!" 
> 
> See the next chapter for more of their (and others') great ideas!


	6. More Firsts

Wade couldn’t tell if May liked him the first time he met her. She was very kind, but she seemed like the type of person who was always kind even if she didn’t like somebody.

She had them over to her place for dinner, and she made arrabiata. Wade didn’t know if Peter had told her that was his favorite, he wasn’t sure if Peter even knew that, but he made a point of telling her how good it was and she smiled. Kindly. He tried to be very quiet. Maybe if he got away with May just disliking him and not hating him then Peter would stay with him for a while longer.

“Oh, sweetie – remember when you asked me if I had vanilla ice cream for the brownies and I said I did? I accidentally lied.”

“No problem,” Peter laughed, kissing his aunt on the cheek. He seemed to be having fun. Wade was glad. “I’ll go grab some.”

“I’ll go,” Wade offered, but Peter gently pressed him back down onto the couch.

“You two hang out, get to know each other,” Peter said with an encouraging smile before completely abandoning Wade in a hideously awkward social situation. Hoorah.

The door had barely shut behind Peter when May sat down next to him on the couch. There was a gleam in her eyes, as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “Peter adores you,” she said.

Wade made a sort of gasping noise, unable to quite form words, but May didn’t seem to need him to. She pulled, apparently from the couch cushions, an old VHS tape that she held like it was a freshly-purloined Declaration of Independence.

“Would you like to see a video of him playing a lamb in his first-grade school play?”

Yes. Wade would like that. Very much.

Minutes later, Wade was squee-ing uncontrollably as he watched the miniature version of his precious Spidey singing a song about the seasons of the year while wearing a woolly lamb costume.

“I made the ears out of mittens,” May explained. She appeared to be delighted by Wade’s squee-ing rather than weirded out, thank goodness.

“What the shit?!?”

Both Wade and May jumped and turned to see Peter standing in the doorway holding a carton of vanilla ice cream, watching his tiny self on the TV in horror.

“Peter Benjamin,” May scolded before Wade had time to stammer any excuses, “watch your mouth, sir!”

Wade was so entertained by watching Peter’s face cycle through four different shades of red that he almost didn’t register the Achievement he’d just unlocked: Middle Name.

“Yeah, Peter Benjamin,” he repeated, emulating May’s well-honed scolding voice. “May, I promise I will wash his mouth out with soap the second we get home.”

As May convulsed with hysterical laughter, Wade watched Peter realize three things: one, Wade and May were almost scarily alike. Two, this was possibly one of the unconscious reasons he’d been attracted to Wade in the first place. Three, now that he’d let them meet, it would be impossible to keep them away from each other.

May continued to giggle as Peter escaped to the kitchen to put away the ice cream. Before Wade realized what she was doing, she put her hand over his. “Let’s do this again soon.”

“Yes, please,” Wade managed to say in spite of the many feelings he was juggling. “I bet you have more VHS tapes.”

“And baby pictures,” she grinned, opening a drawer in the coffee table to reveal stacks and stacks of photo albums.

“You did have ice cream!” Peter accused from the kitchen. “That was a ploy to get me out of the house!”

Wade and May giggled, then went to help their guy with dessert.

“I’m sorry I let your aunt show me baby!you videos,” Wade said sheepishly when they got back to their place.

Peter rolled his eyes but smiled as he opened the door. “It was inevitable. I should have known you two would be trouble.”

“You were the cutest lamb that ever lambed,” Wade said, unable to keep his feelings in as he followed Peter to the couch. “Your little face, your little ears –“

Peter turned to him with a no-nonsense expression, and for a moment Wade was afraid he was about to get a talking-to (which could be yummy). Instead, Peter grabbed his ass and pressed their fronts together, sending a very clear message about what sort of mood he was in.

“Aren’t you supposed to be washing my mouth out with soap?” he purred, close to Wade’s lips.

Wade was not sure how he managed to make his legs work in that moment, but he somehow threw his beloved over his shoulder and wrestled him into the bathroom. He had suspected Peter had a punishment kink, but for the first time it was thoroughly confirmed. Good thing he’d unlocked the Middle Name Achievement.

*~*~*

The first time Wade saw Peter cry, he didn’t actually see him. He’d been in his mask. Wade just – was pretty sure. It had made him feel sick, but it was also – unexpected. Sweet.

“What do you mean?”

He was dying. No biggie, but he realized he hadn’t exactly done this around Spidey before. He remembered the first time Spidey saw him really eaten up with bullets. He hadn’t died then, but his hero had felt sorry for him, carried him. That had been so nice.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured, gagging on blood as Spidey man-handled him, trying to staunch the bleeding. “No worries, Webs – see ya –“

“Wade!” he heard before everything blinked out.

When everything blinked back, seemingly an instant later, he was where he had been. Spidey was still over him, but he was making a weird sound, muffled by his mask. His breathing was weird.

“You okay?” Wade asked, coughing out some excess re-life-ing phlegm.

“What?” Spidey asked, his voice thick. “Am I okay? I am fine. What the hell just happened to you?”

Wade sat up and realized Spidey was supporting him, one slender, mighty arm behind his back. “I do that sometimes,” he shrugged. “I die, I come right back.”

He had spent enough time looking at (and thinking about) Spidey’s face that he was pretty great at reading his expressions through his mask. But right now, he wanted badly to take it off of his head, to look into his eyes. Spidey was staring at him.

“I’m sorry, cutie-pie,” he said, hoping the pet name wouldn’t irritate his new-ish partner in crime-fighting. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Like a partial answer to his wish, Spidey abruptly reached up and pulled his mask up above his nose. He turned away from Wade, one arm still around him, wiping his other hand over his exposed face. “Let’s just get out of here,” he said, gruffly, pulling Wade to his feet.

Two weeks later, he told Wade he loved him and nearly made him choke to death on banh mi.

The first time he actually saw Peter cry, they’d only been a couple for a few weeks. It was their first Multinational Extravaganza, as Wade liked to call them. He, Peter, Clint, and Captain Nipple Shirt had been working to get a huge group of refugees out of their beautiful-but-war-torn home. It took days. Cap and Spidey had been working for months, doing surveillance, gathering info, using their Avengers cred to get several European leaders to agree to take in the refugees.

Getting the actual people physically out was one of the most dangerous and exciting things Wade had ever been involved in, and that was saying something. He wasn’t killing anyone, because he loved his sweet Spidey (and he didn’t want to? Which was weird?), and he tried very hard not to get hurt so badly that he died, also because of love. Wade could hardly believe it, but between the four of them and the respectable number of badasses among the refugees, they got everyone on the road with no good-guy-casualties. They would be safe, all they had to do was get where they were going, where people would help them.

Except that people were absolute trash. Wade knew this. Peter knew it, too. Wade wondered, as he watched his love’s face when Cap told him the news, if part of him had expected this.

“We’ll work on it,” Cap reassured, though they all knew there was very little they could do at this point. “I’m so sorry, Peter.”

Spidey pulled the distraught Captain Forever Hair into a hug, which actually tugged at Wade’s heart. The Cap hadn’t been so bad to work with, for an old guy. He realized that Steve Rogers probably also knew that people were trash, but having the leaders they’d worked with betray them so thoroughly, so late in the game, just turning back the refugees at their borders – it was devastating.

They stayed the night at Avengers HQ, which Wade was deeply uncomfortable with, but they didn’t really see anyone else. After talking to Cap the two of them retired to their room. Peter hadn’t said a word.

“At least they’re out,” Wade attempted, sitting down on their bed. “They’re safer than they were, they’ll find places to go.”

Peter nodded, looking out the window. Wade felt a pit of shame in his stomach – he knew that was bullshit, and so did Peter. They were alone, left to wander. They had been so brave, and now they had been utterly abandoned by people who didn’t have an ounce of their strength.

It took him a moment to realize that his sweet Spidey was crying. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t making a sound. Tears were just streaming down his pretty face as he stared out at the manicured lawn of Avengers HQ. Wade wanted to go to him, to look into those big brown eyes that brought him so much comfort and tell him it was okay. But it did not feel right. He sat on the bed, helpless, useless, watching his favorite person weep silently.

“It never stops sucking, huh?” Peter finally said, his voice steady.

Wade hesitated. “Life?”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to be that dark, it had just come outside. Peter froze a moment, then laughed. It was more of a bark, not his usual sweet laugh that sounded like bells and sunshine. Wade moved behind him now, tentatively sliding his arms around his love’s waist. He was still wearing his Spidey suit except for the mask.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Peter said, wiping his eyes with both hands. “I didn’t mean for you to see this.”

Wade rested his chin on Peter’s shoulder. Seeing him sad or upset was fucking horrible. It made him feel like his insides were splitting, and Wade knew from experience what that felt like. He wanted to never see Peter cry again.

But life was sad and upsetting sometimes. And he very much wanted to spend a large portion of his life, as much as he was allowed to, with Peter. So he was probably going to see him cry again. And, while he had vowed never to ugly!sob on his beloved after his little display when Spidey unmasked for him, he hoped they would be together long enough that he would eventually break that vow.

But he also hoped that they would have lots of moments of laughing their asses off, and having fun together, and helping people together. That had been good, even if it fell through.

He tried to convey all of this by pressing his cheek against Peter’s temple. It seemed to work.

“I love you,” Peter said, his voice a little shaky, but it was okay. That was part of it. Wade could handle it.

*~*~*

The first time one of them walked in on the other masturbating, Wade couldn’t believe it had taken this long.

The room was dimly lit. Natasha stood on his left side, Bucky on his right, both of them looking devastatingly sexy in their dark suits and ties. Peggy stood in front of him. In a suit and tie. Pencil skirt. Behind her, against the wall, stood Peter, looking dapper as fuck, his hair and eyes beautifully offset by the dark material of his suit and tie. He was looking at Wade, hungrily.

“Natasha,” Peggy said in her lovely voice, shaking Wade out of his trance. “Would you describe yourself as my good girl?”

“Yes, m’am,” Natasha answered, a wry smile on her lips. She was looking at Peggy, but her eyes flicked to Wade. He trembled.

“And James,” Peggy said, her gorgeous dark eyes on Wade as she spoke. “Would you agree that you are my good boy?”

“Oh, yes, m’am,” Bucky replied in his low, smooth voice that Wade secretly loved to listen to.

“Wade.” He shivered as Peggy turned her full attention on him. “I understand that you are also a very good boy. Is it true?”

Wade glanced at Peter over Peggy’s shoulder. His lips curled in a proud smile. “Yes, m’am,” Wade answered, obediently.

“Good,” Peggy said. She held up her right hand and in it was – holy jesus bedazzle sticks – a riding crop.

“Natasha, James, help this good boy into position, if you please.”

Wade’s head spun as his super hot friends took him by each arm, gently but firmly bending him over the bench.

“Nice ass, DP,” Bucky whispered in his ear. Natasha made a small noise of agreement.

Wade looked up enough to see Peter, his Peter, leaning against the wall, loosening his tie. His other hand opened his dark suit pants, pulling out his cock, beginning to stroke it lazily, his eyes boring into Wade’s.

“Twenty strokes to start with, I think,” he heard Peggy behind him. “Count them for me.”

Wade heard the crop swish through the air, tensed against the strong hands that held him down, watched Peter rest his head back against the wall, exposing the skin of his pretty neck as the first stroke fell –

“Oh, boy.“

Wade’s eyes flew open and he nearly rolled off the bed. Peter was standing in the bedroom doorway, his hands over his eyes.

“You’re supposed to be at work!” Wade reminded, his voice cracking.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Peter squeaked, looking through his fingers as Wade grabbed madly at pillows, attempting to cover up. “Is that – the flesh light?”

Wade tried to stuff his faithful Spidey-themed flesh light beneath the bedspread, but it was too late. “Yes. What of it?” he asked, trying to sound indignant.

“Why do you still have that?” Peter asked, gesticulating aimlessly. He was so very flustered, and in a different situation Wade would have found it adorable.

“What do you mean why?” Wade countered, his voice cracking more as it rose higher.

“Why do you need it?” Peter demanded, looking up at the ceiling. “You have me! My body is your flesh light now!”

There was a momentary pause as they both absorbed what Peter had said before they both burst into hysterical laughter.

“You mean to tell me,” Wade teased as Peter joined him on the bed, “that you don’t spend quality time with Spidey-Junior anymore?”

Peter smiled in a way that said yes, he absolutely did. That gave Wade all kinds of yummy ideas, but at the moment he was distracted by Peter’s hand on his poor, straining, interrupted cock.

“What were you thinking about?” Peter asked as he took hold of the Spidey flesh light, lowering it achingly slowly down onto Wade and lifting it back off, fucking him.

Wade only moaned. Everyone had exciting fantasies about their friends, and given how unusually hot their friends were, Wade didn’t think he could be blamed. He was sure Peter did the same, and he couldn’t wait for the first time he walked in on that little scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is composed of multiple humans' ideas:
> 
> THANK YOU to Lomitosupersuavecito for requesting Wade's first time meeting May!
> 
> THANK YOU to Monkeybarrel for requesting Wade's first time seeing Peter cry!
> 
> THANK YOU to freedom9 and Moosenogger for requesting Peter catching Wade with the Spidey fleshlight, and to oneFishtwoFish for the initial idea of a fleshlight!
> 
> I'd love to keep adding little "Firsts" to this series. What would you all like to see? First fight? First "real" date? First...grocery trip? Let me know if you have ideas! <333

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for your continued sweetness and love!!! 
> 
> Next up is Chastity/Edging for Vixen13. (Whee!)
> 
> Coming soon: desperation, cross-dressing, various insertion kinks, dad!friends, and more!
> 
> Got a request/idea? Do please share!
> 
> <33333


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